Sometimes I just can't find words. I feel lost. Unable. Questioning. Questioning everything.
And then I find myself on the couch nuzzled up next to two small people, totally absorbed in a simple book.
And the words on the page pierce me in the best way and all of a sudden I remember what we're supposed to be doing.
The original plan was set in stone when we first brought these kiddos home from the hospital.
But for some reason, when I'm about fifteen minutes into my day, and there's spilled milk soaking into my socks and no one can seem to find a pair of clothes that semi-matches and doesn't have holes in it, and there's to much loud bickering going on for one Mama's patience to bare, and my eyes are on the verge of brimming over... I forget the plan.
And then in His kindness... there on the couch with the two cuties tucked in close while we read a favorite, The Best Loved Doll, He reminds me. And in that moment I can feel the joy coming back, because I remember, I remember the plan.
The story is about a little girl who gets invited to a party and is asked to bring a doll. There will be prizes for the doll that does the most things, the oldest doll, and the doll with the prettiest clothes. Betsy has a doll for each of those categories and could easily win the prize for any of them but as she looks around her room trying to decide whom she shall bring to the party she makes a most extraordinary decision...
"Betsy crossed the room to her bed.
She lifted Jennifer from the bed and looked at her.
Jennifer's wig was loose and her hair was tangled. Her nose was cracked. When Betsy tilted her, her left eye closed, but her right eye stayed open. Her cheeks were patched with adhesive tape. Her white stockings and her black patent leather slippers had been lost long ago, and her feet were bare. The toes on both her feet were worn away and, her knees were scarred. But on her face she wore a smile that never went away.
"You aren't my oldest doll, Jennifer," said Betsy.
"Your dress is a fright. And you can't do a single thing. But I do love you dear Jennifer."
She carefully laid Jennifer back on the bed. For a minute she stood looking at her. She puckered her forehead. Suddenly, she snatched Jennifer from the bed and rushed out of the room.
... And Jennifer, with a smile on her face that never went away, she looked like the happiest doll in the world."
AND that's when I remembered that my desire for these children under the farmhouse roof, is that they would grow up LOVED on!